Melissa’s secret—that she had lived as a man for fifteen years—was uncovered by accident, stumbled upon by Paul, the young marquis.

He snatched up the linen binder that had slipped from her chest, turning away in a flustered rush as he thrust it back toward her. “Brother Melissa… No, Miss Melissa. You hid it so well… I nearly entered the monastery. But today, at last, I see my own heart.”

Watching the tips of his ears burn crimson, Melissa laid her own heart bare. “The torment of longing… has been my constant companion as well.”

With that delicate pretense stripped away, Paul could no longer hold back his devotion.

At the Academy, when a young noble sneered at Melissa as an “effete bookworm,” Paul cut out the man’s tongue—an act for which the Old Marquis broke his son’s leg.

When Minister Oliver harassed her drunkenly at a banquet, Paul stabbed him in the groin right there in the hall. Three days later, he submitted evidence of Oliver’s corruption. Oliver’s entire household—thirty-two souls—were executed without delay.

On the day of the execution, Paul galloped the length of the Capital’s main avenue, Oliver’s bloody head mounted upon his lance, a warning to every noble family:

“Anyone who touches Melissa will share this fate.”

To guard her secret, Paul became her near-constant shadow.

She loved dessert soups, so he compelled Janet’s Sweet Shop to invent a new flavor daily, fetching each one himself.

On her birthday, she wore the maiden’s dress he had given her—for the first time.

Before the bronze mirror, the gown was fastened, then torn away—and with it, her innocence, given freely to him.

After that night, Melissa resolved to abandon the Imperial Examinations fifteen days later. She would reclaim her identity as a woman and become his wife.

But when she went to find him, Caleb’s excited exclamation stopped her cold:

“We’ve all misunderstood Paul! He actually has a woman he likes!”

Academy classmates crowded around. “Really? Whose daughter could possibly catch his eye?”

Melissa’s heart hammered—had her secret been found out? Well, it would have to come out sooner or later anyway.

Just as she drew breath to confess, Caleb laughed loudly. “What daughter? It’s Janet, the girl who sells dessert soups on East Glory Street!”

All color drained from Melissa’s face.

She looked up to see Paul riding in on horseback, holding Janet tightly in his arms.

In full view of everyone, he swept Janet up and carried her into the Academy, laying her on Melissa’s own bed.

Facing Melissa’s stricken gaze, he spoke with detached calm.

“To pay for her sick mother’s medicine, she lost her stall and was sold to a brothel. She refused to take clients—was nearly beaten to death. If I hadn’t saved her, you’d never taste her sweet broth again.”

Gently, he brushed a tear from the corner of Janet’s eye, his voice softening.

“Bear with it fifteen days, Janet. Once I pass the Imperial Examinations, I’ll reopen your shop. The Academy is my family’s estate. Stay here.”

Examinees here shared rooms, two to a chamber.

Melissa, owing to her fastidious nature, had been granted a single room—a special favor from Paul.

But now, his eyes held only pity for Janet. He had forgotten her entirely.

Forcing her voice steady, Melissa asked, trembling, “If she’s in my bed, where do I sleep?”

Paul looked blank. He truly hadn’t thought that far.

Brian from the next room spoke up. “I have an empty cot. Would you make do, Brother Melissa?”

Paul glanced at Brian, then said softly to Melissa, “He’s harmless—cares only for his books. You’ll be safe.”

Melissa swayed. Before she could refuse, Paul, citing Janet’s need to change, ushered everyone out.

Inside, Brian buried himself in his books, never glancing her way.

Melissa lay down fully clothed, her mind replaying Paul holding Janet tightly on the horse.

He had once said that place on his saddle was reserved for her. That once she lived as a woman again, he would take her riding across every corner of the Capital.

Knowing her fastidiousness, he’d had her bedding changed daily. No one entered her room except the cleaners.

But now, all these privileges were yielded to Janet.

Perhaps even he hadn’t realized it yet—his heart had already leaned toward that delicate, soft-spoken girl.

Something clenched tight in Melissa’s chest, a pain so sharp it stole sleep.

In her half-conscious daze, a sudden weight crushed down—Brian had thrown himself heavily atop her!

He chuckled lowly, his voice a leer. “I’ve known you were a woman for a while. Since Brother Paul is done with you… why not let me…”

His hands went straight for her chest, eyes devouring her.

Panicked, Melissa fumbled under her pillow, found the dagger, and stabbed upward with all her strength!

A scream tore through the night. The courtyard soon blazed with candlelight.

Paul, seeing Brian’s hand half-severed, stared in shock before turning furious eyes on Melissa, still clutching the bloody dagger. “What happened?”

“He…” Her voice failed. How to explain? Admit she was a woman, that Brian had nearly violated her, and ruin her own reputation?

In the chaos, she saw Janet push the door open and step out—wearing the very birthday dress Paul had given *her*.

Janet spoke timidly. “I… I heard an argument. Young Master Melissa said he would ruin Master Brian’s hand so he couldn’t take the Imperial Examinations…”

Melissa paled further. Janet had come prepared, framing this as academic rivalry turned violent.

Paul’s face darkened. He walked to Brian, whispered in his ear. Brian, eyes burning with resentment, reluctantly nodded.

“What happened today… Master Brian, in his magnanimity, will not press charges. However, Melissa is to receive twenty lashes. Let it serve as an example.”

Melissa’s head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief.

*Twenty lashes?*

The man who used to fret over a few strands of her hair falling out—how could he bear to have her beaten?

She grabbed his arm, voice trembling. “It’s not like that! Janet is lying!”

Impatience flickered in Paul’s eyes. “She just met you. Why would she target you? Melissa, don’t make this difficult.”

She tried to argue further, but meeting his icy, resolute gaze, her heart plummeted.

There was none of the old tenderness. Only disdain. Disappointment.

He truly didn’t believe her.

In that moment, something inside Melissa shattered. All strength left her. She could only stand there as the twenty lashes fell, one after another.

Her white robe stained crimson, she was tossed back into her room like discarded cloth.

She thought once the punishment ended, he would come immediately, would listen patiently.

But she waited until dawn broke. Paul never came.

Outside her door, she overheard chatter. He had taken Janet to a physician first thing, bought her clothes and jewels.

Another voice marveled that the young marquis, once indifferent to women, had fallen for a common girl from the streets.

With trembling hands, Melissa wrote a secret letter home.

In fifteen days, the Imperial Examinations would be held. He would pass with honors.

In fifteen days, the Imperial Consort Selection would also begin. She would reclaim her name as a woman—and walk her own path alone.

The attendant was just heading out with the letter when Paul walked in. He snatched it and eyed it suspiciously.

“What’s this?”

Melissa’s heart leapt into her throat. Forcing a casual tone, she said, “I’ve decided to live openly as a woman again. I’m writing home for their consent.”

Paul’s tense expression softened. He handed the letter back to the attendant, closed the door, and began helping her undress to tend to her wounds.

“Last night, I brought in a top doctor for Brian. At dawn, I rushed to the Brian family to mediate,” he explained, his voice low. “I paid them five thousand taels of silver, and I leveraged an old, deadly scandal involving his father to pressure them. That’s how I got them to back down. That’s why I’m late.”

Melissa bit back her tears, refusing to expose his lie. Calmly, she asked, “Why didn’t you just ask me why I wounded him?”

“That scholar?” Paul said coldly. “He couldn’t possibly be after you. He doesn’t even know you’re a woman. Besides, Janet heard everything. With so many witnesses, I couldn’t show you too much favoritism.” He paused, his tone shifting. “Melissa, a mistake is a mistake. It’s not like I can’t handle it for you.

“Since you’re willing to give up the Imperial Examinations and marry me peacefully, I know you love me. Rest assured—in fifteen days, I won’t let you down.”

Melissa lay face down on the bed, her hands clutching the quilt, trembling uncontrollably.

He had believed Janet’s testimony without question but had never once trusted her.

He’d clearly been out with Janet, yet he lied about running errands for her sake.

At this point, any defense was futile.

Melissa closed her eyes and said no more. She just wanted to get through these fifteen days quietly, then go their separate ways.

But two days later, Janet rushed in, sobbing, and threw herself to the floor, bowing her head to the stones again and again.

“Mr Melissa! I was wrong! My mother is already dead because of you! Please, spare the rest of my family... I beg you...”

From Janet’s choked pleas, Melissa pieced together a ‘truth’: out of hatred, she had hired thugs to drag Janet’s ailing mother to death behind a horse.

Melissa forced herself upright. “I didn’t! What proof do you have it was me?”

“If not you, then who?” Paul stormed in, fury rolling off him, and hauled her outside. “Two days ago you wrote home. I thought you meant what you said, but it was just to vent your anger!”

He flung her hard onto the stone steps. Before her lay the bloody corpse of Janet’s mother, the sight draining the color from Melissa’s face.

Even more terrifying—she saw her own mother, hands bound, tied to the back of Paul’s horse.

“Paul, what are you doing to my mother?” Dread washed over her, cold as a plunge into ice.

“Doing?” Paul’s face turned to stone. “The agony you inflicted on her mother by dragging her, your mother will now taste.”

Before his words faded, the horse reared and charged. Kelly was dragged off like a weightless scrap, her screams piercing the air!

Melissa lunged forward like a madwoman to stop it, but Paul seized her arm, his fingers digging in like a vice.

“Apologize to Janet.”

“Paul, I didn’t do it! Believe me!”

Her mother’s screams suddenly grew faint. Desperation tore at Melissa’s soul—how could she confess to something she hadn’t done!

“Ten more laps!” Paul ground out the order through clenched teeth.

The horse completed a circuit of the street and returned, a long trail of fresh blood drawing closer.

Melissa could no longer care for her own reputation. She fell heavily to her knees before Janet. “I’m sorry, Miss Janet! Please, make him stop! My mother is frail, she can’t endure this...”

“Your mother can’t endure it? What about mine? You killed her! Don’t you see?”

Janet wept even harder than Melissa, her body going limp as if to collapse. Paul caught her swiftly, his eyes filled with concern.

Heartbreak forgotten, Melissa clung desperately to Paul’s legs, begging him to spare her mother.

He finally relented, raising a hand to halt the rider. Scooping Janet into his arms, he turned to leave, his final words icy as he tossed them over his shoulder. “Don’t let there be a next time.”

As if granted a reprieve, Melissa staggered to her mother’s side.

“Mother, I’ll take you to a physician!” She held her blood-soaked mother, forcing herself to stay calm.

She couldn’t panic. She mustn’t panic! Her mother’s head was gashed. Beneath the torn clothing, there wasn’t a patch of unbroken skin...

She had to get her to a physician!

With her last strength, Kelly trembled as she gently touched Melissa’s frantic face.

“I regret it so much... I shouldn’t have let my own selfishness make you live as a boy for fifteen years... I’ll die without ever seeing... you in a dress...”

Her hand went limp and fell. Her wide, staring eyes never closed, as if straining for one last look at her daughter.

“Mother—”

*CRACK—*

A bolt of lightning split the sky. Thunder roared, swallowing Melissa’s piercing cry.

Torrential rain poured down, instantly washing the long street clean of blood.

Something seemed to clamp around Melissa’s throat. A few choked sounds escaped before she collapsed, unconscious, before her mother’s body.

For three days, Melissa drifted in a feverish haze.

Through the fog, her mother’s final sigh echoed in her ears, and Paul’s resolute back—walking away with Janet in his arms—replayed behind her eyelids.

On the fourth morning, she forced her eyes open. Paul was there, seated vigil at her bedside, his face etched with worry.

Seeing her awake, he spoke, his voice rough. “Your mother has been laid to rest with dignity. The fault was mine. Your father has been… magnanimous. He has agreed to let the matter drop.”

A knife twisted in Melissa’s heart.

Her mother’s family had long fallen into decline. Though the lawful wife, she had been cast aside in favor of a concubine, surviving only because of the ‘son’ Melissa pretended to be.

Now, with her mother gone, her father could elevate that woman without delay. This so-called magnanimity had surely been purchased with Paul’s money and influence.

Silent, she watched as Paul took the medicine bowl himself. He blew gently on each spoonful before bringing it to her lips.

Melissa opened her mouth woodenly and swallowed. The brew was bitterly potent, scraping her throat and forcing tears to her eyes.

“I know you hate the taste. I had some sweet soup prepared for you.” Paul opened the door. There stood Janet, head bowed, obediently offering a steaming bowl.

Melissa glared at her with pure venom. “Get out!”

Paul’s voice softened to a coaxing murmur. “Janet has been unwell herself, yet she still made this almond soup for you. Be good and drink a little, hmm?”

Melissa turned her face away, her expression hardening.

Paul frowned. “Melissa, your mother struck her head on that pillar. Her death was… an accident, a twist of fate. Janet lost her mother too, yet she cooked for you while ill. Won’t you take even a single taste?”

When she resisted, his grip tightened on her chin. He forced her mouth open and poured the soup down her throat.

Melissa gagged, vomiting up the liquid along with the medicine she’d just taken.

“If it’s sweet soup,” she rasped, “why is it bitter?”

Tears sprang to Janet’s eyes. She snatched the bowl back and drank what remained.

“I’ve been helping my mother make sweet soup since I was three. Do I not know sweet from bitter? Why must you always persecute me, Young Master Melissa? Are we common folk just meant to endure your bullying?”

She turned to Paul, her voice catching. “Taste it, Young Marquis. You tell us—is it sweet or bitter?”

Then she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Caught off guard, Paul moved to push her away, but his hands found her waist instead—sliding upward almost of their own accord. Just before they brushed her chest, he jolted back to himself and shoved her away violently.

“What disgraceful behavior!” he barked, though the tips of his ears flushed red. “You are an unmarried maiden. I will not speak of this, for your reputation’s sake, but you must never do such a thing again.”

Janet hung her head, sobbing. “I was just so wronged, I lost my composure. Thank you, Young Marquis, for your kindness in thinking of me.”

Fury made Melissa’s head swim. She grabbed the sweet soup bowl and hurled it to the floor. “Get out! Both of you, get out now!”

Porcelain shards flew. One grazed Janet’s cheek. She whimpered and dropped to her knees.

The sound brought the Academy Master, who was passing by. He pushed the door open, eyes widening at the sight of Janet kneeling on the floor.

“Miss Janet,” he asked in surprise, “what happened to your face?”

Through tears, Janet poured out her grievances. “Young Master Melissa said the sweet soup I made was bitter. When the Young Marquis spoke a few words in my defense, he threw the bowl at me. I truly don’t understand. If Young Master Melissa is a man, why does he always act so… jealous? Could it be the Young Marquis has a penchant for men? Is that why Young Master Melissa…”

The Academy Master’s face darkened with anger as he glared at the two of them.

Rumors in the town don’t spring from nothing. If this were true… this Melissa could not be allowed to stay.

Furious and desperate, Melissa opened her mouth to declare she was a woman.

But Paul stepped in front of her, addressing the Academy Master with deference. “Sir, I treat Melissa as a younger brother. There is no such… unnatural inclination between us.”

Hearing this, Melissa felt all strength drain from her body. She slumped back, utterly defeated.

The Academy Master’s expression eased slightly. He gave a cold snort. “The Imperial Examinations are approaching. Mind your conduct!” With that, he turned and left.

Paul hurried after him to see him out.

The room held only the two of them now.

Instantly, Janet’s tears vanished. She leaned close to Melissa’s ear, her voice a soft, venomous whisper.

“I’ve known you were a girl for a long time.”

Melissa’s body went rigid.

A faint smile touched Janet’s lips. “He waited by my stall for sweet soup every day. And while he waited, all he talked about was you. Your brilliant literary talent, rivaling even Brian’s. Your little tempers—he loved that liveliness in you most. Your fastidiousness, how no one but him was allowed to sit on your bed…”

“His utter devotion… it stirred something in me too. I thought perhaps I could be his concubine. But the moment I saw you—” Her voice dropped lower. “I just wanted you dead. Otherwise, he would never love me in this lifetime.”

Blind rage surged. Melissa’s hand shot out, striking Janet hard across the face.

Janet clutched her cheek, stumbling backward before falling deliberately onto the bed of broken porcelain.

Paul walked back in just then. He saw Janet lying amidst the shards, her plain dress stained with spreading crimson.

Pain flashed in his eyes. He rushed forward and gathered her up.

“It seems those twenty lashes taught you nothing about restraint.” His voice was cold. “I’ve spoiled you. Today, you will learn some discipline.”

He grabbed Melissa, dragged her from the bed, and forced her to her knees on the sharp, glittering fragments.

Melissa looked up, meeting Paul’s icy gaze. A low, quiet laugh escaped her.

So this was how it felt when a heart died. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore.